Safe House
by Mindy35
Summary: After a home invasion, Beckett finds safety with Castle.


Title: Safe House

Author: mindy35

Rating: K+, implied violence

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine, no infringement intended, no money made.

Spoilers: None really...

Pairing: Castle/Beckett

Summary: After a home invasion, Beckett finds safety with Castle.

A/N: My first fic for this pairing. Inspired by a part in "Heat Wave".

-x-x-x-

"Can I say something here?" Without waiting for an answer, Castle punched the emergency stop button, causing the 12th's ancient elevator to grind to an uncertain halt.

His partner cast him a part confused, part irritated look. "What're you doin'? We have work to do."

"I know," he said, turning to face her. "I just need to say this."

"Okay. Well…" Beckett huffed, folded her arms, "make it quick."

Castle took a breath, shuffling from foot to foot under her impatient glare. "Look…I know that you see a lot of stuff on the job. All of you do. Bad stuff. Awful stuff. And as cops, you've got to find a way to deal with that, I get that. I get the need for distance and the whole gallows humor thing."

She lifted both brows. "Uh huh. But?"

"But what happened to you last night was horrific," he said, adding in a rush: "Worse than that, it was…I don't even have words for what it was and I have plenty of words for pretty much everything. They're my thing, you know that."

Her glare faltered slightly. "Castle."

"Let me finish." He shuffled a little closer to her in the small space. "I know that Ryan and Esposito are just trying to lighten the mood, I know how much they care about you really. I know that they are taking their cue from you on this, as they do on everything."

She frowned at him, arms determinedly crossed between them. "Yeah, so?"

"So I also know that you feel this need to project an aura of strength, of…untouchability." He paused, concerned and questioning eyes scanning her face. "But sometimes…sometimes I think the strongest thing you can do is just crumble, cry, admit when you need someone, admit if you were scared-"

"Of course I was scared," she interrupted suddenly, "I was freaking terrified."

He retreated a little, taken aback by her unexpected vehemence.

She retreated further, arms dropping from her chest and voice rising as she went on. "You know…it doesn't matter how many dirtbags I put behind bars, how much smarter than them I get, how hard I train my body to fight back- in a situation like that I will still always be at a disadvantage to pure brute strength and I hate that." She took a step to her right, two back to her left, glancing about the confined space like a furious, caged lioness. "I hate that feeling of being weak, powerless. I hate that any bozo with a little muscle power behind him can get to me like that."

"I know you do," he nodded, encouraging her ire to run its course.

She waved a hand at him and continued. "And yeah, if you must know, I did not sleep a wink last night after- I could barely stop crying this morning when-" Her eyes dropped to the floor and her voice lost its former momentum as she told him grimly, her back now to the wall, "It took me a full hour and all the strength I had just to walk in here today."

"I know that too. Or I could tell…from your eyes." He circled a finger at her face. "They were all pink and puffy."

She pushed herself away from the cold wall, her jaw clenched and tempo picking up again. "And of course I want someone, Castle, everyone needs someone sometimes-"

"Well, here I am." He placed himself in her path, in her line of sight, tapping his own chest with his palm. "Right here. I'm your man, I'm your someone. So let me have it. If you wanna talk, rant, cry, whatever. I'm here. You can even hit me if you want, if it helps."

Her mouth worked wordlessly for a moment, her fury momentarily immobilized by bemusement. "Well…as tempting as that is, I'm not sure it would actually help."

"It always seemed to make you feel better in the past," he pointed out.

She tilted her head to one side. "That is true."

"So go ahead, give it a try," he urged, proceeding to demonstrate how on himself. "Pull my ear off, pinch my nose, smack me silly if it eases the pain any."

Beckett just sighed. "Castle-"

"Give it a shot, I can take it." Ignoring her resistance, he picked up her wrist and proceeded to whack himself with her unresponsive hand. She didn't even wince as he did, as his fingers captured her arm. She barely gave herself away. All he noticed was a slight lift of her brows and a small, sharp intake of breath. But it was enough. Enough for his observant mind to register. Enough to make him look down and see the red abrasions, the mottled purple bruise that his hand was covering. Her hand stiffened in his, tried to pull back. Instead, he held her, as gently as he knew how. He drew back her sleeve with his other hand, looking at the full extent of her injuries, at least on this small but not insignificant part of her body. None of her was insignificant, not to him.

"I see red when I think about it," he told her quietly, his gaze lowered to that slim, strong, mangled wrist. "It makes me so-…just makes me want to punch something, makes me want to steal that gun of yours and-" He broke off, looking up, expecting her face to be painted with incredulity at his macho protectiveness. It wasn't. He swallowed, eyes locked on hers. "When I think about what could have happened. What _did_ happen..."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't recall-"

"I read the police report," he admitted before she could even accuse him. "You left it on your desk."

"In a _closed_ file, Castle. Marked _confidential_."

"I couldn't restrain myself."

She gave a mild roll of her eyes. "Am I surprised?"

"Is it really so wrong-"

"To read a confidential police report I haven't authorized you to read? Yes."

" -that I just want to wrap you up and keep you safe?" He drew her sleeve back down again, let her retract her arm from his grasp. "Is that sexist of me, controlling?"

She released a sigh, shook her head. "Maybe. But it's a perfectly normal reaction when someone is under threat."

"Yes. It is," he answered. "When it's someone you care about."

She hesitated, eyes dropping briefly before lifting back to his. "But I'm fine, Castle, I promise you."

"You don't look fine."

She shrugged a shoulder. "It looks a lot worse that it is."

He slipped a hand between the fall of her hair and her neck, lifting it from where it had been deliberately arranged to hide the angry red finger marks on her flesh. His thumb settled on her chin, tugging her lower lip free of its mate, revealing the nasty gash she couldn't hide behind any shade of lipstick, the bright red blood peeking out from beneath broken skin. His gaze moved to her eyes, one of which was turning black in the corner where a large fist had obviously more than grazed her. "I don't think that's possible," he said finally.

Kate drew back from him, attempting a smile. "I'm used to it though. Getting a bit beat up is part of the job. Believe me, this is nothing compared to what I used to cop in my rookie days."

He frowned at her. "That does not make me feel better."

She frowned back. "But you think me hitting you will?"

"It might make you feel better, which will make me feel better. And as always, I am willing to take a hit for the team." He drew himself up, straightened his shoulders to prepare himself. "Or its leader, at least."

Kate ducked around him, hiding a smile and pushing the button to start the elevator again. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, Castle, I'm sure I will be taking you up on that offer someday."

"I'm sure you will," he commented as the box jolted to life again and they continued their ascent to the bullpen.

"But right now," she added, eyes focused with a steely glare at the doors, "all I want to do is find this sonovabitch."

Half a minute later, the doors slid open to admit them. But he took her elbow before she could alight and dismiss their conversation. He was careful when touching her; who knew how many more bruises she was hiding behind that perfectly groomed armour of hers. He lowered his voice, let his head dip towards hers. "Anything you need. You know that."

Beckett met his steady gaze, nodded slowly.

He didn't let go of her elbow, eyes intent. "Use your words, Kate."

She gave an exasperated sigh but told him, "Yes, Castle. I will let you know. Okay?"

"Okay."

He let her go, trailing her to her desk just as her phone began to ring. She ran for it, made a grab for it and got it. Castle dropped into his usual chair, watching as she nodded a few times and gave a few short responses into the receiver. When she finished the call, she did not relay to him the information she'd received as she normally would, nor did she take off her coat and sit. She remained on her feet, head bent, brow furrowed, expression indecisive.

"You know, there is something that might help," she murmured after a moment.

Castle tipped his head to one side and waited. He was unsure whether this was some obscure opening to a quip or whether she was about to tell him to get out, go home as she periodically did whenever he got too close for comfort and she didn't wish to be trapped under his ever-present scrutiny.

"I, ah…my place is still messed up after last night," she went on, aimlessly shuffling some papers on her desk. "The window is smashed and the locks on the door-"

Castle was on his feet in a shot, phone in hand. "I'll call Alexis, have her make up the guest bedroom. It's yours for as long as you need it."

Beckett wagged her head decisively. "I won't impose long. Just long enough for me to get my place in order."

"Stay a night, stay a decade," he replied lightly. "My mother did. What's one more stowaway?"

She lifted her head, met his gaze evenly. "One night will be fine. One night is all I need then I'll be out of your hair."

Castle took a step back, knowing when not to push. "One night then." He turned towards the break room and was walking way when he heard her add softly:

"Maybe two."

He turned back, his lips lifting just a little in each corner. "…Coffee?"

She nodded once. "Yeah."

He continued on his mission for caffeine, calling as he went: "Double shot?"

Beckett shed her jacket, called back: "Thanks," and turned towards the murder board with a narrowed gaze.

-x-

That night, she soaked her sore, shattered body for over an hour in the bathtub in Castle's overly capacious bathroom. After which, Martha dug out all sorts of ointments, containing all sorts of exotic herbs, all of which were meant to help her battered skin to heal. After a dinner cooked by Castle and daughter, Alexis retired upstairs to study while Martha exited in a flurry of sequins and perfume on her way out to meet some friends. By nine, Kate found herself ensconced in the couch, back against the armrest and bare feet resting on one deep cushion. She sipped the wine Castle had poured for her and ran eyes over the research her victim had inexplicably been gathering. In the opposite corner of the couch, Castle was engaged in his own research, intermittently tapping on his laptop while sipping his wine. As the rhythmic tap-tap-tap continued to pepper the comfortable silence, Kate let her head drop back, let her body slide down, let her eyes slip shut, just for a moment.

In her years as a cop, single woman and homicide survivor, she'd built a very specific sense of security about herself. One that came from training her mind to distrust and her body to battle. Her security came from the knowledge that all the doors and windows about her – anything that might permit any threat – were shut and shut tight. It came from sleeping with one eye open and a pistol under her pillow. Castle's sense of security was very different. It was built not on keeping the bad things out but on keeping the best things close, all the things he loved close enough to touch. His security, unlike hers, had warmth. It had joy, it had abandon, it had life.

"It's good, right?" he asked, causing her thoughts to falter and her heavy head to lift.

When she opened her eyes, Rick Castle was holding up his nearly empty wineglass and grinning a lazy grin. Kate bit her lip, smiling sleepily as she took another sip. "Very good…" she nodded without thinking of the wine really, except for how it intensified the creeping lassitude of her limbs. It was odd, she thought, considering how different their ideas of safety were, that she should feel so at home in his. But she did, she had to admit. It was hardly the first time she'd taken refuge in the security he so freely offered. May not be the last either, knowing her proclivity for attracting trouble. But whatever the reason, she felt at home there. Being there was an enormous relief, one she was doubly relieved she'd allowed herself. Even if it was only for one night.

Sometime later, she wasn't aware of how long, Kate felt herself leave the soft couch, floating weightless for a small while until darkness crept over her eyelids and her bones found sweet, soft, welcoming bed. Her eyes did not open as she drifted, or as her surroundings changed, or as the cool covers were so gently laid over her. Because some part of her knew that there was no threat to her here. Here, she was safe. For a night at least.

Maybe more.

_END._


End file.
